


Under the Stars

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Magic, Marriage Proposal, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft learns just how special Greg is
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 18
Kudos: 161
Collections: Mystrade Is Magic





	Under the Stars

Mycroft had always known that Greg Lestrade was different. Just how different was brought into full focus on a warm night in May.

Greg had been trying to convince Mycroft that they needed a weekend away for some time, but something always seemed to come up. Finally, though, the stars had aligned and here they were, in a Scottish cottage, miles away from anyone and even outside of cell phone range, just to be certain Mycroft couldn't accidentally check his messages.

Mycroft had noticed Greg's anxiety on the drive up. He tried not to attempt to deduce the reason, though the romantic part of him secretly hoped for a proposal. Perhaps it was foolish; he wasn't sure Greg ever wanted to get married again after all the trouble with his ex, but Mycroft knew he would say yes in an instant. Hell, if Greg didn't propose soon he might just do it himself, worry be damned. And even if Greg didn't want to get married, well that was alright too. In many ways, it felt like they already were and a wedding would just be a ceremony.

At the moment Mycroft sat on a bench outside the cabin, looking up at the glittering stars as the sky grew darker. A sliver of moon had begun its climb, the world full of the gentle sounds of night.

Greg came out with two cups of tea, passing one to Mycroft. He was nearly buzzing with some sort of anticipation, but Mycroft didn't comment on it, letting Greg get settled on the bench and take a sip of his drink.

"If I was smart I'd have brought out wine instead of tea," he said at last.

"Oh?" said Mycroft, looking at him.

Greg gave him a weak smile, then put down his cup and paced before speaking again. "I'm not crazy," he said. "But I'm going to tell you something that will sound utterly barmy."

"Whatever it is, I'm here for you," said Mycroft, setting down his own cup and looking up at him.

Greg scrubbed a hand through his hair. "What would you say if I told you I'm from an old family with the gift of magic?"

Mycroft blinked a few times and weighed his thoughts. Greg looked utterly sincere, and he wasn't prone to flights of fancy. "I'd say, 'there is more in heaven and earth than is dreamed of in your philosophy?'"

"Yeah, you would break out the Shakespeare," said Greg, giving him a cautious smile. He suddenly went to one knee in front of Mycroft. "I want to marry you, Mycroft. But I need you to understand and believe this."

Mycroft leaned down and kissed him gently, heart skipping with emotion. "You have never lied to me," he said.

Greg produced a box. The plain band was inlaid with a strange gemstone that seemed to flicker with an internal fire. It was like nothing else Mycroft had ever seen. "It's beautiful," he said softly.

"I'd like it to be your wedding band," said Greg quietly. He took a breath and turned his palm over. 

As Mycroft watched a green flame formed in his hand. "Gregory," whispered Mycroft.

"Touch it. It won't burn you."

Mycroft glanced at Greg's face, then reached out to touch the strange flame. True to Greg's word his hand didn't burn, though it was slightly warmer than the air around them. He took his hand back and looked at Greg again. "I know a great many secrets, but I must admit this isn't one of them."

"Not that many of us left," said Greg, the flame vanishing into the night like a half-remembered dream.

"Did... did Valerie know?" asked Mycroft.

"A little," said Greg. "I think she mostly thought it was just a parlor trick. And she didn't want kids so I wasn't worried about passing it on." Greg got up from the ground and sat next to him. "I guess I brought out tea because I wanted you and I both to know we were sober."

Mycroft leaned in and kissed him. "You're an amazing man, Greg, and one I am lucky to have in my life. This is just one more thing about you that sets you apart."

"I'm just rather glad you didn't go running into the hills," said Greg.

"No, I spent quite enough time keeping myself away from you. Nor am I going to have you burned at the stake or any such thing."

"Well, I appreciate that. I'm not particularly good at the magic, and I suppose she was right in that it's mostly a parlor trick at this point, but I wanted you to see all of me." Greg reached up and cupped his cheek.

Mycroft turned his head and kissed his palm. "You know there are many secrets I have to keep," he said. "This is just one more."

"It does come in useful. I'm particularly good at knowing when people are lying, and when they have a good heart."

"Is that part of why you put up with Sherlock all those years?" asked Mycroft.

"That and maybe I wanted to get to know his big brother a little better." Greg leaned in and kissed him again, sliding the ring onto Mycroft's finger.

"It will be my honor to marry you," said Mycroft. "And I'll be happy to learn about this world of yours, as much as you can tell me."

"We can save the history lesson for another time," said Greg with a chuckle. "There's something else I'd like to do right now."

Mycroft caught the twinkle in his eye. "Mm, something we can do under cover of night with no one around for miles?" he asked.

"That, yes," said Greg, getting to his feet and reaching into the house to grab a blanket he'd left by the door. "In the old days, this was all part of sealing the deal, so to speak."

"Well far be it from me to interfere with an old tradition," said Mycroft, keeping Greg's hand as he led them a short ways from the cabin and into a meadow. In another time this was probably a place for sheep or cows, but for now it was a piece of heaven as Greg spread the blanket out and carefully lay Mycroft down. 

Mycroft heard Greg whisper something, perhaps just to make sure they were comfortable. Mycroft didn't have time to concern himself about it as Greg quickly stripped him bare, pillowing his head with the clothes and kissing him deeply. 

Moaning softly, Mycroft opened his eyes as Greg knelt back to remove his own clothes. He was handsome in the starlight, perhaps even more than usual, his broad shoulders and hidden strength giving him the faint air of some Celtic chieftain. Mycroft shivered and it wasn't the cool night air. He'd often felt there was something powerful in Greg, and now, perhaps, he knew part of the reason why.

"Beautiful," murmured Greg, running his hands down Mycroft's pale chest. He leaned down to kiss Mycroft again, taking him in hand and giving him a few firm strokes.

Mycroft opened his mouth to him, relaxing, knowing he was safe and loved and cared for. Greg's free hand carded through his hair, soon moving from his lips to his jaw, then his throat. Mycroft's eyes slipped closed under Greg's touch.

Greg shifted to settle between Mycroft's thighs. He raised his head again and cupped Mycroft's cheek. Mycroft opened his eyes again and met Greg's gaze as he spoke: "Will you be mine from the dawn to the setting of the moon? For as long as the tides move along the shore? For as long as we share breath?"

Mycroft felt something crackle between them, could nearly taste the magic of Greg's words. The wedding was going to be a mere formality after this, he was certain. Some part of him was afraid, but more of him ached with love. "I will be yours until the mountains are worn to dust," he said softly.

"And I am yours," said Greg, kissing him again.

Mycroft cried out against Greg's lips, as he thrust into him, feeling fire run down his veins. He wrapped his arms and legs around Greg and held on for dear life. Their lovemaking had almost always been amazing, but this was something else. Something primal and ancient and... holy was the best word his mind could conjure in the moment. Then Greg shifted his hips and the last of his thoughts were washed away. There was only this moment, Greg filling him over and over, claiming him body and soul. Distantly Mycroft was aware of the soft noises he was making, of the heat of Greg's body, of the faint smell of grass and flowers.

He came with a shout that would have embarrassed him at any other time. Greg followed him over moments later, kissing him deeply, the thrum of life pulsing through their matching heartbeats.

Finally, Greg rolled to the side, gathering Mycroft in his arms, holding him close as if he was afraid of ever letting him go.

"I'm here," murmured Mycroft, still floating on the experience. "Not going anywhere."

"I love you," said Greg into his hair. "Grá mo shaol."

_ Love of my life_, Mycroft's brain helpfully translated. "And I love you," he said into Greg's chest. He felt Greg smile. Probably they should get up and go to sleep in a proper bed, with some clothes on, but for now this felt right. He could feel the aftershocks of magic in his blood and soon drifted off under the wheel of the sky above."

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to theartstudentyouhate for reading along and to beltainefaire for the beta


End file.
